


After The Wreckage

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, During Canon, First Time, Genderswap, Knife Kink, Romance, Threesome, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-08
Updated: 2010-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-03 04:57:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 4,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8697508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Even after the Apocalypse was averted in the eleventh hour, there is still a lot of clean up work to be done. Sam feels responsible and Dean is just along for the ride. Along the way, they find in each other just what they've been missing.





	1. After the wreck I picked myself up and flew away...

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Okay, so a warning. This is very AU. Like, really AU. I've played with gender and orientation and a looot of morals. In this story, not only is Sam a girl, but so is Cass. Believe me, it's all part of the plan. This series is on-going.

  
Author's notes: This is my new baby. Please refer to all warnings and genres both on the story and in the story notes. Thank you for reading and enjoy :)

+++  


* * *

“Don’t think I’m not afraid…” she said slowly, licking her lips. “I’m terrified.” Dean chuckled and she shot him a glare. “What’s so funny?”

 

“You. Being scared of anything, that is.” Dean cleared his throat. “If you’re scared, Sammy, then why do it?”

 

“It’s the least I can do,” she whispered. “I caused this… this _devastation_ , Dean. I have to help in any way I can.” Sam looked mournfully out at the ruined cemetery around them, knowing that the rest of the world didn’t look any better.

 

“ _We_ caused it,” Dean corrected. “After all, I shoved Lucifer back into his box. You just held him in place.”

 

To anyone else it would have sounded like Dean was belittling her efforts, but Sam knew better. He was trying to ease her guilt by minimizing her involvement. But it just wasn’t going to help this time. She knew what she’d done and it was something not easily repaired. She put her hand on his arm and smiled when his hand covered hers, squeezing her fingers gently.

 

“I love you,” she whispered suddenly. Dean flushed all the way to his ears, squeezing her hand harder. Sam laid her head on his shoulder and sighed.

 

Now… Now the real work began.

 

+++

 

Two weeks in was the first breakdown. No one- not even the weakest, most desolate town- wanted help from the woman who’d ended the world. Dean grimaced as another handful of _something_ pelted his baby as they peeled out. Sam was sniffling in the passenger seat next to him and Dean wished- for perhaps the millionth time- that Lucifer hadn’t trotted his sister out like a new Armani suit as he broke the world.

 

Dean reached out and put his arm across the back of the seat, letting his fingers rest at the base of her neck. “Don’t listen to them,” he said, voice constricted by guilt and anger. “They’re fucking wolves. J-just-” He swallowed hard. “Just fucking _feral_.” He was shocked at how much he meant it. The people in the town had attacked without thought or mercy.

 

Sam looked at him, tears brimming in her hazel eyes and simply shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “I did this. And now God is punishing me…”

 

“Stop that!” Dean snapped, his fingers tightening a bit. He bit the inside of his cheek as she flinched away. He gentled his voice. “You did nothing wrong… Lucifer did. He knew what he was doing and I wish to _God_ he hadn’t shown the world your face when he did it!” Dean closed his eyes, breathing hard.

 

Sam swallowed hard and one of the tears she’d been holding so hard in check fell. “You…” she started then broke off, laughing helplessly. “You love me too much, Dean. You don’t- or won’t- see what everyone else does…” She swallowed hard. “You don’t see the devil.”

 

Dean just shook his head and kept driving. Sam would come to see what she was in time. And Dean- Dean would just have to help her any way he could.

 

+++

 

She changed her hair a week later. Dean came back to their abandoned home and was almost overpowered by the smell of ammonia and colorants. He gagged and walked into the bathroom to see Sam bent over the tub, her shirt and bra folded neatly on the counter with a towel lying on the toilet, washing the dark dye from her hair. Oh God, her hair….

 

“S-Sammy?” Dean asked softly. Dean’s belly twisted as he fought the urge to gag. The sink was covered in long strands of brown hair. She’d chopped it short- just over her shoulders. And then- He dropped his keys in shock. Her shoulders were shaking and as he inched closer he saw that the water spiraling down the drain was wine red. “Oh, Sammy…”

 

“Brown was too noticeable… Needed a change.” She swallowed hard and sat up, hair a mess and dripping. Dean watched as a drop of water, tinged blood red, rolled down her skin and trembled, suspended, on the tip of her nipple. He swallowed and came closer, bending her back over the tub.

 

“Idiot,” he said, managing to sound only a little choked up. “You still have dye in it…” Dean pretended not to notice how her shoulders shook as he reverently poured cup after cup of water over her head. He pretended not to think about how it felt like washing blood from her body. He pretended that it didn’t bother him how much his baby sister was changing.

 

Sam, for her part, pretended that Dean’s hand didn’t linger too long on her back as he braced himself to thrust the cup back under the spout. She closed her eyes against the stinging dye and let herself cry.


	2. An Adjustment Period

  
Author's notes: I had forgotten how short the first chapter was. I hope you guys enjoy this one as well :) I'm glad people are reading but a review would be nice ;)  
+++  


* * *

“I’m scared,” she confided in the darkness. It was getting colder so Dean, in the interest of keeping his sister alive and not a Sammy-icicle, had abandoned his moral high ground and moved her into his bed. He made sure to wrap her in her own blanket before climbing under the three he’d layered on top of them. Sam never said anything, though Dean knew she was wondering why.

 

In all the years they’d spent living in each other’s pockets, sleeping in the same bed was hardly something new. Sam just rolled her eyes and wiggled her way over to where Dean lay, molding herself to his side. Dean wrapped his arm around her and played with the ragged edges of her shorn hair.

 

“And why is that?” Dean asked. He laughed humorlessly. “I mean, aside from the whole damn world going crazy, both halves of the supernatural community wanting to put us in the ground, oh, _and_ the angels and demons gunning for us!”

 

Sam scowled and kicked Dean’s shin. “You know, _shockingly_ , that wasn’t what I was looking for when I told you I was scared.” She laid her head carefully on Dean’s chest and it was silent for a while. Dean was almost asleep when she spoke again. “Dean?”

 

“Mmph?” he grunted. She pushed on his chest and snuggled closer.

 

“Do you remember when I was little and had a nightmare?” Dean groaned and she hit him again. “Well? Do you?”

 

“Sammy…” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am not singing you that crappy Journey song.” She kicked him hard and rolled over. “Ow! Sam! What are you? Nine!?”

 

She grumbled and wiggled all the way to the extreme edge. Dean caught snatches that sounded like “stupid…” and “asshole.”

 

Dean took a deep breath and rolled over, putting his arm over her body. He felt her stiffen up and huffed. “Shut up, Sammy.”

 

She snorted and Dean cleared his throat. “You tell anyone I did this and I will kill you.” She rolled over and beamed at him, wrapping her arms around his chest. Dean closed his eyes and hummed the beginning piano part.

 

_Highway run_

_Into the midnight sun_

_Wheels go ‘round and ‘round_

_You’re on my mind_

_Restless hearts_

_Sleep alone tonight_

_Sending all my love_

_Along the wire_

 

Sam’s breathing was evening out, her exhalations barely stirring the edge of the blanket. Dean smiled and skipped forward a little.

 

_Through space and time_

_Always another show_

_Wonderin’ where I am_

_Lost without you_

_And bein’ apart_

_Ain’t easy on this love affair_

_Two strangers learn to fall in love again._

_I get the joy of rediscovering you._

 

“Ski’d the chor’s…” Sam slurred. Dean smiled drowsily down at her.

 

“Girl, you stand by me,” Dean whispered. “I’m forever yours… Faithfully.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead and Sam was out.

 

+++

 

The next town they passed through didn’t recognize Sam. Dean didn’t want to stay, convinced that the people there would find Sam out in an instant. She managed to avoid detection and kept her head down, teaching the remaining townsfolk how to recognize a demon and protect themselves from one.

 

Dean settled quickly into teaching the militia men how to kill them. Gone were the days of exorcisms and moral standards. Now it was kill or be killed. Dean packed rock salt until his fingers bled then and Sam wrapped her arm around his waist as they walked back to their room.

 

Dean was startled but not entirely blindsided when Sam didn’t introduce him as her brother. He saw the practicality of it, after all. There were a lot of unattached men around the town and she was still very beautiful, even with her mismatching cropped hair and skin. The more men who believed Dean was looking after her, the better. And if a tiny part of Dean- something that had been growing for years and that he had to work hard to squash- like the idea of people thinking Sam belonged to him, then it was all in his mind and his own business.

 

Soon they were getting playful digs from the remaining women. When were they getting married and were they thinking of a baby? Sam sputtered and deflected as best she could. Dean just smiled coldly and said that what they had was good enough for him and asked what kind of people brought a child into this world. That sent even the nosiest of them away quiet and thoughtful.

 

Several days later, after they’d put the lights out and were laying together on the bed, Sam wrapped up like a burrito, she kissed him. It was light, barely a brush of lips but Dean still blushed when he thought about it. Sam didn’t say anything about it, just laid her head down on Dean’s chest and slept.

 

After that night Sam kept finding excuses to touch him. A hand on his back as she passed, a light touch on his wrist when they were eating, even the simple brush of lips against his when they had been apart all day and Dean came back whole. By the time they were looking to leave town, the people in the underground were used to Sam just going to Dean during a tactics discussion and just laying her head on his shoulder while he wrapped his arm around her waist and made room for her.

 

Just another part of the ever-evolving Winchester dynamic: Sammy needing something from him and Dean making space in his life for it, always accommodating Sam.


	3. Show Me What I'm Looking For...

  
Author's notes: Alright, this is where things start getting complicated. Wincesters, squeal. Angst lovers, hold tight. I'm getting to you.  
+++  


* * *

They were in Arizona when they finally saw a familiar face. Sam had been handing out supplies when a cool hand on her arm stopped her. She whirled around, ready to knock whoever had been dumb enough to touch her to the ground. She let out a tiny scream and pulled away, falling to the ground.

 

Dean, meanwhile, was peering through the crowd, searching for Sam. They’d split up earlier, falling into new patterns like they were old ones. He was craning his neck to see over the crowd when he heard her scream. Panic flooded his veins as he shoved his way through the crowd.

 

“Sammy!” Dean yelled, jumping over a jutting rock and pushing the last few people aside. He saw her, sitting back where she’d fallen on her ass, staring in front of her like she’d seen a ghost. Dean was at her side in moments. He cast a look at the ragged stooped man before her and dismissed him. Dean stroked hair out of Sam’s face. “You okay, baby?”

 

She nodded, knotting her fingers in his sleeve. “B-Bobby….” she stuttered. Dean frowned. Bobby had been killed in the cemetery before they banished Lucifer. Dean had told her, in fewer words, what had happened, how Satan had killed him. Sam looked up at him with wide, brimming eyes. “Bobby.”

 

Dean followed her eyes behind him to the man hovering anxiously. His hair was a wild tangle of grey and white and he had a beard hanging down onto his chest. Dean peered closer, trying to find any trace of his foster father in the man before him. Dean sighed heavily.

 

“Sammy,” he said, not taking his eyes off the man. “This isn’t Bobby. Bobby is…. Bobby died in Lawrence. Lucifer killed him.”

 

Sam clung to his arm so hard it hurt and Dean could feel the tips of her nails pushing into his skin. “No! That’s Bobby. I know it.”

 

The man shrunk down and squared his shoulders. Dean grunted and pulled Sam back to her feet. “Can he talk?”

 

Sam hesitated. “No… He showed me his throat right after I fell. It’s been mauled. I don’t think he can anymore.”

 

Dean closed his eyes and prayed for patience. Though to whom he prayed was up for discussion. He supposed it was to Cass if it was to anyone. Cass was the one being connected to either side of the war that Dean still trusted. The angel hadn’t been around but sometimes, when Dean was weak or just so depressed at the state of things that he honestly considered ending it all, he would feel touches of her presence.

 

_Help me here, Cass,_ Dean thought. _Me and Sammy can’t take much more hurt._ Dean felt a warm wind blow across the back of his neck and, as weak of a sign as it was, he took it. Dean extended a piece of paper- a crumpled napkin from his pocket- and a pen to ‘Bobby’ and looked at him sternly. “Talk.”

 

Sam hovered at his elbow, chewing her lip, and Dean thoughtlessly put his arm around her waist, drawing her close. At this, the old man’s eyes narrowed and he gave Dean a look so chillingly familiar that he almost snatched his arm away like he’d been burned.

 

The old guy held his note out and Sam took it, smoothing the wrinkled paper out.

 

_”First of all, Sam, you’re an idjit for letting your guard down enough for me to sneak up on you. Second, where the hell is your gun?!_

_Dean, I understand the suspicion. Good boy, lookin’ out for your sister. You’ve done good._

_What’s next, geniuses, holy water? Salt? Silver?”_

 

“Bobby,” Dean said, choking suddenly. “That really you man?”

 

Bobby sighed and fixed Dean with his irritable scowl and it was so familiar that Dean felt tears burn in his eyes. He glanced at Sam who was holding the note to her chest and sobbing as she looked at Bobby. Dean squeezed her waist and that seemed to be all she needed as she wrapped her arms around Bobby’s bent frame and held him close.

 

Dean shuffled closer, meeting Bobby’s eyes over Sam’s back. Bobby held his spare arm out and Dean let himself be pulled into the embrace. He closed his eyes, breathing in the smell of Sam and the familiar comforting presence of Bobby, and finally let himself go.

 

+++

 

That night, Bobby tucked away in another of the rooms in the small house they’d been given, Sam rolled on top of Dean. She bit her lip and sat on his stomach, looking uncomfortable. Dean’s hands came to rest naturally on her thighs, his breath short.

 

“I-” he started but she cut him off with a kiss. And it wasn’t like any kiss they’d ever shared, before the Apocalypse or after. Those were soft and tentative and lasted hardly a moment. This kiss… This kiss was going on and on, all hot lips and silken tongue. Dean slipped his hands up under her t-shirt and moaned half in longing and half in anguish when there was nothing under there but white skin.

 

Sam looked down at him with a calculating, desperate look and shoved his jeans down, pulling his cock free. She stroked it a few times before settling herself down on him. Dean arched his back, momentarily overwhelmed by the sensation. It had been months. Sam hissed and dug her nails into his chest, breathing hard. Apparently it had been even longer for her.

 

Dean gripped her hips and guided her slow and gentle on him. Sam threw her head back and moaned almost desperately, twisting her hips. Dean bit down on his lip, feeling like a virgin again lost in the hot tight sensation of her body. His hands were shaking and he almost laughed. Only Sam could break him like this.

 

She whimpered and looked down at him, eyes brimming with tears and Dean leaned up thoughtlessly, kissing her hard. She shuddered hard, gasping against his lips and then she was clenching impossibly tight around his cock. Dean growled, a low feral sound and gripped her hips tight enough to bruise while he came hard inside her.

 

When it was over and she’d collapsed to the side, Dean reached out hesitantly and stroked her cheek with the backs of his fingers. She closed her eyes, leaning into the touch. He cleared his throat and sighed heavily, lost for words.

 

“You don’t have to say anything,” Sam whispered suddenly. She rolled onto her side, bundling the covers around her and looking at Dean with wide scared eyes. “If-if we just don’t say it, then it’s not real.”

 

“Sammy,” Dean rumbled. “That didn’t work when you were five and it sure as shit won’t work now.” She flinched a little, worrying her lip between her teeth. Dean reached out and pried it loose with his thumb. “Shh,” he whispered. “Shh, baby.”

 

Sam closed her eyes. “I couldn’t help it… I just need you so damn much.” Her face scrunched up under his palms like she was embarrassed. Dean kissed the little line he knew from experience was crinkling up between her eyebrows.

 

“Didn’t I just say to shush?” Dean pulled her flush against him, hooking his hand behind her knee to bring it up over his thighs. She smiled against his neck and wrapped her arms around his chest. When she was silent and their breathing had faded to normal, Dean cleared his throat again.

 

“Sammy?” She grunted a little in acknowledgement. “You know I love you, right? Like, head-over-heels, over the moon, out of the park and into left field, love you.” Dean swallowed hard.

 

She pressed a kiss to the side of his jaw. “I know, Dean. I’ve always known.”


	4. Betwixt and Between...

  
Author's notes: Alright, people. Here's where shit gets critical... Frankly, I'm thinking about moving this story to LiveJournal where there's more appropriate places to upload it. IF you'd like, I'll continue to update here. Let me know :)  
+++  


* * *

“How do you think things ended up like this?” Dean looked at his sister, raising an eyebrow. Sam rolled her eyes and continued. “I mean, we know _how_ and, to an extent, why… I just… wanna know _why_. Honestly, with no destiny bullshit.”

 

Dean shrugged. “We’ll never know. The only one who could give it to us straight is Cass, and I don’t see her around anywhere.” He swallowed hard and glanced around before going back to work on the fence post he was fixing. Sam’s eyes were shadowed and she rolled her shoulders guiltily.

 

“She’s not dead, Sam.” Dean threw his hammer down and glared up at his sister. “If Bobby came back, then so did she. Cass is out there… somewhere.” Sam put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed.

 

“I understand that she was your friend, Dean.” Sam’s smile was self-mocking. “She always looked out for you the best she could, even if she did tend to insult me.” She hurried on at the angry look on Dean’s face. “She didn’t mean to!”

 

Dean jerked his head in her general direction and Sam sighed. She hopped down from where she’d been sitting on one of the few non-leaning posts and looked at him, face soft and open. She kissed the corner of his mouth and walked back to the house without another word.

 

Dean set his mouth into a hard line and attacked the fence with even more vigor. Sam and Cass together were a complicated mix, like making a bomb out of gas and accelerant. Pay too much attention to one and not the other then they’d both blow up in your face. Dean rested his forehead against the worn wood.

 

“You know I don’t pray,” he muttered. “But if you’re out there, get your feathery ass here and give me a sign. And not one of your stupid, breathe across the back of my neck signs. A real one.” Dean slammed the last nail in and stood up, looking around. “Well,” he said to himself. “I guess that answers that.”

 

He kicked a chunk of wood into the foliage and closed his eyes. “Damn it, Cass. Bobby managed to make it back, but you couldn’t?”

 

“Bobby Singer didn’t ‘make it back’, Dean. He was resurrected.” Dean’s eyes snapped open and he spun around, looking for the source of that familiar dry voice.

 

“Cass?” His voice was pathetically thin. She gave him that small but sincere smile that she seemed to reserve just for him- and on rare occasion Sam. She took a tentative step forward, messy black hair blowing in the wind. The coat was gone, as was the neat blouse and pencil skirt. In their place were jeans and a faded t-shirt. Dean coughed out a laugh. “You look so-”

 

“Normal?” Her smile faded. “I am, mostly. I have a few powers left, but my Grace is… diminishing.” Castiel shook herself slightly and took another step closer. “I used much of what was left to sense you.”

 

“Why- Why would you do that?” Dean waited until she was only a foot away then stepped up to meet her. She tilted her head, staring at him with those fathomless blue eyes.

 

“Can you not guess?” she breathed out. Dean closed his eyes.

 

“Sam-”

 

“-is a big girl, Dean. She’s seen this.” Cass’s eyes were knowing. “I know what you two have been doing.” She cupped his cheek when he tried to turn away. “And I am not here to pass judgment. Plenty of angels have lain together, and we are all brothers and sisters under God.”

 

Dean flushed. “But you never have…” He wasn’t sure why he needed to say this, but the idea that she would forgive what she would never do went a bit beyond his belief.

 

“No, Dean.” She looked sour. “We have been over this.” Dean shook himself and took a step back, breaking the airless atmosphere. Cass’s face fell and she fidgeted with her wrist.

 

“Come back to the house,” he said, at a loss for what to say or do. Cass looked up at him again. “Sam is making dinner and Bobby’s there. They’ll be thrilled to see you.” He reached out and took hold of her wrist. “Please.”

 

Cass smiled warmly. “I’d like very much to be welcomed into your home.”

 

+++

 

Sam screamed when she saw Cass hovering behind him. Her eyes had filled with tears and she’d run forward as if to hug the angel when she stopped suddenly, hanging back. Dean stepped out from between them, earning him two martyred glances instead of one. He rubbed his temples. It was starting already.

 

“Hello Samantha,” Cass said, setting down the meager belongings she’d zapped with her. “You look well.”

 

Sam nodded, wiping under her eyes. “So do you. I’m so glad I didn’t kill you!” She flushed and fiddled with her apron. “We-well, I mean _Lucifer_ didn’t kill you… in my meat suit….”

 

Cass smiled thinly and stepped forward a little to peer around Sam. “Bobby,” she said shortly. Bobby nodded to her, his face blank and neutral. Cass sat down at the table, looking up at them. “What now?”

 

Sam laughed. “Now… we eat.”

 

+++

 

Why he’d thought the sleeping arrangements would be simple was beyond Dean. Sam had tried to stick Cass in their bed while they took the underground den but then Cass had insisted on sleeping next to Dean and it had gone downhill from there.

 

“Cass,” he snapped, rubbing his brow. “Why the hell do you want to sleep with me?”

 

Her face was mulish. “You know why. And so does Samantha, that’s why she’s throwing this… bitch fit.” Cass’s unfamiliarity with the word showed where she’d picked it up.

 

“Bitch fit?” Sam repeated her face dark. “Dean, when did you say anything about me throwing a bitch fit in front of the angel?”

 

“Um…” Dean pursed his lips and tried to look cutely naïve. Apparently that only worked for Cass because he was now on his back, staring up at two angry women. Sam’s eyes were shiny and- Aw, crap. She turned on her heel and stormed out of the house. Dean ignored Bobby’s glare and Cass’s silent guilt; he’d deal with them later.

 

“Sammy!” he barked, throwing the door open and striding out into the night. “Samantha Mary Winchester, where the hell are you?” A sniffle from his right clued Dean in. “Baby?”

 

“Not your baby,” she muttered, knees drawn up to her chest. Dean sat down next to her, tugging on a lock of hair. She pushed his hand away. “Stop it…”

 

Dean let out an annoyed breath. “Seriously, Sammy. What the hell is wrong with you?” He rubbed his eyes. “It’s Cass… You know what she’s like.”

 

“Yeah, I do. But that wasn’t typical Cass, Dean.” Sam swiped at her eyes. “She was cold all night and during dinner and then she just tries to- to-” She blushed and looked away.

 

“Come on to me. Cass tried to fucking come on to me, in her creepy-angel-with-no-people-skills way,” Dean supplied, blinking. “Huh.”

 

“All you can say is ‘huh’?!” Apparently it was the wrong thing to say because Sam made to stand up again. Dean grabbed her arm and yanked hard, throwing her off balance. She ended up sprawled in his lap. She lifted her head, probably to snap at him again, but Dean didn’t let her get that far.

 

He kissed her hard and fast. “I’m with you, Sammy. You, not Cass. I don’t know why you think it matters so damn much, but it doesn’t.” He cupped her cheek and rubbed his thumb over her lips. “I’m not gonna leave you, Sam. Not for Cass and not for anyone else either. So you can cut the jealous act.”

 

She kissed him gently and let him lead her back to the house. They ended up in their bed, Dean in the middle and a woman on each side. Cass had apologized in her quietly endearing way and Sam had melted like butter. But really, sleeping warm and cozy, sandwiched between the two women he probably cared about most, wasn’t the worst thing Dean Winchester ever did.


End file.
